


Redeem My Life Again - volume 1

by jaeger_delta (deltasierra)



Series: Redeem My Life Again [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Rugby, Bullying, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-28 13:33:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltasierra/pseuds/jaeger_delta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started out as a prompt for a boarding school AU. Which... kind of spiraled out of control.</p><p>The Redeem My Life series explores an AU where Chuck grows up in a boarding school, bullied and alone, until one transfer student Raleigh Becket becomes his roommate... and how their lives continue after that, following some emotional parallels with the Pacific Rim canon.</p><p>Volume 1 details Chuck's early teenage years in the boarding school, where he meets Raleigh, and how their friendship grows into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sketches

**Author's Note:**

> Archive warnings: none
> 
> The story starts out somewhat sad and dark, and spans several years, with short chapters. Chuck is 14 in the first chapter.
> 
> Some archive warnings apply to later chapters. I will warn for these in the notes at the beginning.

Absent-mindedly Chuck doodled in the sidelines of his school notebook. Monsters with strange heads and large claws, giant heroes of steel, and always the two figures standing near them. No matter what he set out to draw, that’s always where he’d end up. His hands going over and over the same lines, two silhouettes, holding hands, connected, a line going from one head to the other. He wasn’t sure what it meant. It’s not like he knew anyone he’d like to hold hands with. Or, rather, there was no-one who’d want to hold hands with him.

The eraser hit him right at the base of his skull.

Chuck swiftly turned around, but the faces of his classmates stared ahead blankly. When he faced the teacher again, she was glaring at him.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Charles?”

Chuck gritted his teeth. He hated being addressed with that name.

“No, ma’am,” he replied.

The teacher narrowed her eyes, and he could see her considering whether to harangue him more, but she eventually sighed and turned back to the whiteboard, continuing to write down a list of mathematical formulae.

 

Not a second after he’d stepped outside of the classroom he felt a hand like iron pinch him painfully in the neck, three other boys surrounded him, and a fourth snatched his bag away, held it upside-down and poured the contents on the floor. One of them fished out the notebook.

“What’s this, Chuckie?” the boy grasping his neck said. He let Chuck go and flipped open the notebook. A collection of doodles appeared, along with a stack of loose drawings that fell out.

“Kid’s drawings of monsters?” the boy laughed. It was a mean and malevolent laugh.

“They’re called kaiju,” Chuck mumbled. He should know better than to mouth off to Scott. He really should.

“What’s that? We speak fucking English here, mate,” Scott said, with a slight nod to the boy behind Chuck. Chuck felt a sharp pain in his side as an elbow dug into it, and fell to his knees, scrambling to collect the drawings.

“And what are these?” another boy said. Chuck looked up. That little prick was Kai, a clever rat who protected himself by kissing Scott’s ass and doing his homework for him. He was pointing at the robots.

He really should just lie down and shut up until they went away.

“They’re Jaegers,” Chuck said.

“Yay-gurs?” Scott laughed. “How does your shitty brain come up with this, Chuckie?”

“They’re heroes,” Chuck grumbled. Shut up, shut up, he said to himself, but he couldn’t stop speaking. Even if it was these assholes asking the questions, he ached to tell someone, anyone. “They fight the kaiju. They’re going to save the world.”

The entire group bursted into laughter. It sounded like daggers made of sound, stabbing and hurtful, mocking him with every breath.

“The world don’t need nobody to save it, Chuckie,” Scott said. “But maybe someone oughta save you from your shitty brain.”

“Shit-for-brains,” another boy said. Chuck recognised him as Dan. Big, mostly silent dude. Scott used him to stomp people for him.

“Ha, yeah! Shit for brains!” Kai parrotted.

Scott grinned as the yell spread to the group.

“Dan,” he said with a nod. The big guy approached Chuck, grabbed his collar, and lifted him off his feet.

Chuck had a sinking feeling about what was going to happen.

 

He held his breath as his head was pushed into the disgusting toilet, and the water flushed up around him. He heard their laughter the whole time.

“Gotta wash the shit off your brain, Chuckie!” Scott sneered.

Chuck kept his eyes shut and tried to go somewhere else as they flushed the toilet over and over.

_A hundred tonnes of steel, moving with the thoughts of two people, parting the seas, withstanding the hurricanes, towering over cities, mighty fists landing on the monstrous faces of the alien invaders_

When they finally let up, Chuck collapsed on the floor, almost out of breath. There wasn’t any fun for them when he stopped responding.

They threw the notebook and sketches at him before they left. The blue and red ink bled out as the paper became wet on the floor.

Chuck’s fingers brushed over the two connected figures as they turned into a blue blotch.


	2. Letter

They called it a boarding school, but it was a prison, Chuck knew. Once you were in, you couldn’t get out. It’s where you ate, where you slept, where you lived. Everyone knew you and you knew everyone. Nobody wanted to know him, however. Not really. He was the scrawny ginger kid whose balls hadn’t dropped even though he was nearly fifteen. He didn’t belong to any of their cliques, didn’t want to suck up to any of the assholes in charge, so he was fair game for everyone. 

Until they were 16, the boys were housed in large dormitories, with eight beds per hall. You had two large lockers for your personal stuff, but Chuck wasn’t so dumb he’d left anything he cared about in there. It’s where he left his uniforms, mostly, which were ill-fitting and somewhat tattered, stained with what had been thrown and poured on them over the years. But his dad could barely afford the school, so he didn’t complain about it. He washed and repaired the clothes as best as he could.

He’d found a spot where they couldn’t find him, at least. It took a bit of climbing from the outer staircase on the south tower, near the chemistry lab, all the way up to the roof, where you couldn’t get through from the normal emergency exit. There, they couldn’t get to him, and they couldn’t see him. It was his only moment of peace during the day.

He fished the letter he’d gotten from his dad out of his pocket. It was the same old stuff, where he was doing his next tour, how Chuck was doing, do your homework boy, be good, and always the undertone of guilt and anger between the lines.

Things weren’t supposed to be this way.

He should be at home with his mum, he should have a younger sibling or two, he should have a dog, he should be playing ball with his friends, he should be holding hands with his date.

But mum died. It was an accident. The truck barrelled towards the car so fast, out of nowhere, and maybe they shouldn’t have been out there on the road but dad had insisted they go out that night, despite the storm, they’d bought the tickets to the damn movie and Chuck had been whining about it for weeks, so they were gonna go. And in the split seconds before the truck hit them dad had to decide which direction to veer their car.

The truck smashed into mum’s side.

Things changed, after that.

Herc had tried, first, being a single dad. But his family had fallen to pieces and he couldn’t cope. Chuck had found himself doing the housework when dad had fallen asleep on the couch, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes.

He started blaming Chuck. Started yelling at him, hitting him.

Somebody at school probably noticed.

They decided it would be best if Chuck went to boarding school. Dad would go back to the Air Force, straighten up. Chuck remembered having a conversation with a tall, impressive man in a uniform. Dad’s boss, he figured. His voice had been low and commanding. He’d told Chuck to be strong, to be a man. 

Chuck didn’t really know how. He didn’t have much of an example to go by.

So he sat on the roof of the south tower, reading a letter of empty phrases, the pages stained with unwritten regret and pain. He crumpled it up, tore it into pieces, and threw it into the wind. He’d write something back. That things were great here, he had lots of friends, it was the time of his life.

Looking down from the tower, Chuck wondered if it would be easier to stand on that ledge and let go. But he saw the torn pieces of the letter flutter down, and it was the only evidence that anyone besides himself gave a damn about him.

He bit back whatever he was about to think and feel. Imagined himself an untouchable giant of steel. To let it all slide off him like rain on the armor.

Chuck climbed off the roof, braced himself, and headed back to class.


	3. Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck has finally hit puberty... but he isn't the only one who noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive warnings: Graphic Violence, (Attempted) Sexual Assault
> 
> ... Yep, this one's dark.

Chuck felt different. His body felt more uncoordinated and clumsy, more energetic. Whenever he saw himself in the mirror, not that he liked to even look at his reflection, it seemed like he’d gotten taller and less skinny. When his voice dropped by an octave right before shooting back up when speaking and he noticed hair sprouting up everywhere, he finally realized what was going on.

But he wasn’t the only one who had picked up on it.

They waited until everyone else had gone out of the communal showers. He was caught up daydreaming about giant robots beating up giant monsters. He should’ve been paying attention to his surroundings, he thought after. He should have known better.

He didn’t notice them until he felt a hand grab the back of his head, grasping his hair tight, and before he could yell out his face was smashed into the shower wall.

He remembered what freaked him out the most then was seeing the blood everywhere, dripping from his head and nose over his chest and hands and into the shower drain, and he sagged down on the wet tiles.

They turned the water all the way down to ice cold, and he was about to scream when Scott’s hand covered his mouth and pushed him against the wall again.

“Best stay quiet, Chuckie,” Scott said. “Wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

His head hurt and there was blood streaming down his face. He nodded against Scott’s hand. Maybe they would stop if he stayed quiet and did what he was told.

“You see, you’re becoming a man,” Scott continued. “And since you’re our friend, we want to help you.”

He was starting to get dizzy. Scott wasn’t his friend. He was naked and freezing and surrounded. He wanted to scream and get out but he could barely move.

Scott shut off the water, and Dan stepped in closer. He lifted Chuck off the floor, hooking his arms underneath Chuck’s armpits.

“You deserve this,” Scott said. “You ignore everyone. You think you’re so much better than us, don’t ya? You think you’re too fancy and smart to be in a club.”

That wasn’t it, Chuck thought. He wasn’t better than anyone. No-one cared about who he was or what he thought. He didn’t want to bother them. He wasn’t worth anyone’s time. Nothing Scott said made sense.

Blood continued to trickle from his head, down his chest and legs into the drain.

Scott stomped his side. Chuck coughed, the punch pushing the air out of his lungs. Scott hit him again, right under his ribcage. He coughed again, feeling the acid reflux burn in his throat. Flecks of light danced in his vision. Another punch landed in his lower stomach, and pain shot through his entire torso. Dan’s arms held him up, or he would have collapsed.

His vision was blurring from the tears and the blood, and he saw Scott, glaring at him viciously.

What did I ever do to you, Chuck thought. Do I really deserve this?

“Turn him around,” Scott said.

Chuck felt a ice-cold terror shoot through his spine. He struggled against Dan’s grip, but it was useless. “No,” Chuck whispered. “No. Please.” 

Scott smacked his face against the tiles again. “I told you to shut up,” Scott hissed, his voice close to Chuck’s ear.

Chuck felt Scott’s hands on his behind, pulling his cheeks apart, and some kind of spinning sensation coursed through him, buzzing in his jaw, like he was going to throw up.

“You’re gonna be a man, Chuckie,” Scott said. “You’ll thank me for it later.”

Chuck didn’t know how he’d done it, afterwards. It was all red and black in his memory and trying to think of it made him feel sick to his stomach. He remembered the feel of something cracking underneath his foot. His nails tearing into skin. Screaming, and a white-hot rage that brimmed in his bones, lashing out, growling.

He regained full consciousness back in the medical ward. When he asked the nurses what had happened, they looked at him with a mix of worry and fear. Nobody would tell him, and he was left with large gaps in his memory. Maybe he didn’t want them filled in, anyway. But Scott was gone. Dan and Kai avoided him. And people were looking at him differently.

Several weeks later, Scott returned to class, and he didn’t so much as look at Chuck. His jaw looked strange, and he was limping.

For the first time since he entered the boarding school, Chuck began to feel strong.


	4. Self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck's mental health is not getting any better when meeting with his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive warnings: none
> 
> This one's less violent, but definitely sad.

With his newfound strength, people left him alone more than ever. Chuck didn’t mind. People were assholes, and they were out to hurt him. He could get by on his own. He’d taken care of himself when he was little, he took care of himself now, and he didn’t need anybody else. It was fine this way. Nobody bothered him anymore.

Now that he’d found out that fighting back kept them away, he’d gotten stronger. He spent his free hours in the gym, running and lifting weights. It’s all he could do to get rid of his built-up energy and anger.

When Chuck turned 16, they moved him to the young men’s dormitories. He wasn’t surprised when nobody applied to be his roommate. There were enough dorm rooms in the large, old building to house students anyway, and usually friends got a room together. He didn’t have any. He felt better finally having some space to himself, and he no longer had to hide his stuff, not that anyone had been stupid enough to touch his things anyway, but he simply didn’t trust the kids’ dorm.

His dad visited, about a month after his 16th birthday. Dressed in his RAAF uniform and everything.

“You look good,” Herc said.

Chuck looked away. He was aware he looked strong and healthy. It’s what kept him ahead of the rest of them. But looking at his dad made him feel like planting his fist into the wall. It was dad’s fault, he figured. Mum dying. Being stuck in this shithole excuse for a school. Everything was his fault. 

Chuck dug his nails into his palms, gritted his teeth.

“I haven’t heard from you,” his dad continued. “I wanted to know how you were doing.”

“I’m fine,” Chuck snapped at him.

Herc hesitated. “Son… I didn’t mean for things to go this way,” he started. “I tried to do right by you.”

“Shut up,” Chuck spat. “Go back to your carrier. You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

He kept his eyes on the floor. He heard his dad sigh.

“Anything you need, you let me know,” Herc said. “Anything.” He approached Chuck, put a hand on his shoulder. 

Chuck swatted his dad’s hand away and rose to his feet, finally meeting his dad’s eyes with a hateful glare. 

“Is that all? I have class,” Chuck said.

Herc looked at him with a pained expression, but didn’t say anything. Chuck dug his nails deeper into his palm, willing himself to stay strong, to swallow the hurt and anger he was feeling. It didn’t matter, he told himself. None of it did.

That night he tried to will away the tears, but they wouldn’t stop. Everything his dad said were just empty words. He’d been abandoned a long time ago. It wasn’t meant to be this way. It wasn’t fair. Tears welled up again, choking in his throat. He hated himself for being this weak and he bit down on his knuckles not to scream it out. I can only rely on myself, I’ve got to be strong, Chuck repeated to himself. Slowly, the exhaustion from crying pulled him into slumber.


	5. Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck goes for a run on the same day as rugby tryouts, and crashes into the hooker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive warnings: none.
> 
> And the lighter note begins.
> 
> A hooker is not what you think it is. *g*
> 
> (I had to Wikipedia the hell out of rugby for this.)

Chuck wasn’t particularly interested in club sports. They required socialization, and he liked talking to people about as much as he liked being kicked in the face. So on the day of rugby tryouts he made sure his daily run around the field was about as far away from the activities as possible.

He liked running. It cleared his head, it worked the stress out of his body, and for a while he was just his body, moving forward through the air. On days he could spare the time to run far he only stopped when he could feel the burn up to his thighs. During a run his mind usually wandered, freed from the daily grind, away from people and classes and schedules.

So when he turned a corner at full speed, he didn’t notice the blonde boy in time to dodge, and he slammed into him, sending them both flying across the grass.

When he did notice the boy he just literally ran over, the first thought that came into his head was something along the lines of sunshine and the feel of sand between his toes and the smell of the sea and the sound of the ocean waves and Chuck figured he might have a concussion.

“Geez, what the hell? Watch where you’re going, you hulking idiot,” the boy said. He rose to his feet swiftly, checking the grass stains on his rugby uniform in the boarding school’s blue-and-red colors. There was a white number 9 on his back. Hooker, Chuck thought. One of the four key positions in a rugby team, forward, fast and tactical. Playing rake wasn’t as easy as running with the ball and ramming through the backs. They could make or break the game and typically had the ball more than any of the other players. Chuck observed the boy. He was slightly shorter than him, not as bulky, but his build suggested a lot of lean muscle and speed. His eyes were blue, open and intelligent. Hair a shade of gold that reminded him of sunshine.

Chuck shook his head. Stop looking at his eyes. And hair. What the hell was he even thinking? He must’ve definitely hit his head.

“Great, coach Gage is gonna be pissed,” the blonde continued to mutter, and pulled off his shirt, looking at the stains with a dismayed expression. “Eh, who cares about looking representative, right? Rugby’s about getting rough and dirty.” The boy looked at Chuck with a skewed grin and a raised eyebrow.

Yes, a lot of lean muscle, Chuck thought. And what the hell was with that smile. Guys weren’t supposed to smile like that.

“You gonna apologize?” the boy said, putting his shirt back on.

The whole time Chuck had sort of been sitting there on the grass, not saying anything, possibly with his mouth agape.

The boy walked up to him and peered into his eyes. “You hit your head or something?”

“Er, I’m fine,” Chuck stammered, finally getting back up on his feet, patting at his shorts to get the grass off.

The boy sized Chuck up, his eyes glancing up and down Chuck’s body.

“Say, you look pretty tough, and that was some speed you were running at. You going to the tryouts?” he said.

“Yeah, nah,” Chuck replied with a shrug. 

“You sure? The way you crashed into me I’d think you were a born prop forward,” the boy laughed. He stuck out his hand. “Name’s Raleigh Becket,” he said. 

Chuck hesitantly reached out and shook Raleigh’s hand. “Chuck Hansen,” he said.

“Chuck,” Raleigh said with a grin. “You change your mind, tell the coach you got my recommendation, yeah?”

He let go, and ran off to the tryouts field.

Chuck sighed. He could swear his hand was tingling. Yeah, he must’ve definitely gotten a concussion.


	6. Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raleigh's got a plan to get Chuck more involved with rugby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive warnings: none
> 
> Boarding school AU seems to be turning into rugby AU. (I regret nothing.)

As the rest of the players ran into the field, Raleigh lingered behind. The rugby coach walked up to him.

“Becket,” Gage said. “What is it?”

“Wondered if you’d heard anything from Chuck Hansen,” Raleigh said.

Coach Gage raised an eyebrow. “Hansen?” he said, with a bitter laugh. “Yeah, when pigs fly.”

“What do you mean?” Raleigh said. The coach seemed pretty dismissive.

“Right, you transferred in this year, so you wouldn’t know,” Gage continued. “Everyone knows Hansen. You can’t get that kid to join anything. Has turned keeping to himself into an Olympic sport.”

“You sure? He seemed friendly to me,” Raleigh said.

“You’ve met?” the coach inquired.

“He ran into me several weeks ago, during the tryouts,” Raleigh said. “Literally ran into me. He’d make a good prop forward, and we need a second.”

Gage shrugged. “Good luck with that.”

“What happened to him?” Raleigh said.

“Boy had a really tough time during his first years,” Gage explained. “Then about a year ago some classmates tried to… assault him in the showers. He beat one of them into the hospital. Kid almost didn’t make it.”

Raleigh let out a soft whistle. “That’s serious,” he said.

“Straightened up after that, though,” Gage said. “Got big, started running. Tried recruiting him a few times, but ya might as well convince a wall to start walking.”

Raleigh frowned, thinking, and then glanced at his coach with a broad smile. “I got an idea,” he said.

 

\---

 

When Chuck attempted to open the door to his room, he was surprised to find it already unlocked, and immediately braced himself. If someone had broken in, they were going to regret it. He slowly pushed the door open with his foot, keeping his arms raised and fists clenched in front of his chest, ready to fight.

There was nobody else in the room, but the bed on the right side of the room was covered in bags and clothes that weren’t his. Chuck dropped his arms slightly, but stayed alert, approaching the bed.

Just then, Raleigh walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another.

“Hey, Chuck!” he said, cheerfully.

“... Uh, what?” Chuck stammered. Of all the things he was expecting, an almost naked Raleigh wasn’t it.

Raleigh approached him. Chuck was very aware of how much clothes Raleigh wasn’t wearing, and the drops of water that were still on the blonde’s skin.

“I’m your new roommate,” Raleigh said with a impossibly charming smile.

“What?” Chuck repeated.

“New roommate. Me. You do remember, right? You ran me over,” Raleigh said, grinning.

“Yeah, uh… Rayleigh?” Chuck ventured.

Raleigh rolled his eyes. “Rah-leigh. Yeesh. I swear every Aussie I speak to gets it wrong.”

Only then it occurred to Chuck what he couldn’t place before about Raleigh’s voice was that he spoke in a North-American accent. Everything about this guy was so different than the people he was used to.

Raleigh walked to the right bed, draped the towel he’d been drying his hair with on a chair, and dug through one of the bags until he fished out a pair of boxers. When he dropped the towel around his waist, Chuck quickly looked away.

He heard Raleigh laugh behind him, friendly and open. “Dude, we’re roommates now, and we’re both guys,” Raleigh said, putting on a pair of trousers and a shirt. “Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?”

“Uh, sure,” Chuck said. He sat down on his bed, still stunned. He had no idea how to deal with this situation. Raleigh was actually being friendly to him. Laughing, smiling. When people talked to him, they were either mean or afraid, or simply didn’t care.

Raleigh searched through his bags some more, found his rugby uniform, and folded it into a smaller gym bag, along with a pair of trainers and a towel. “I’m heading off to practice,” he said, tying his shoes. “You got class this morning?”

Chuck shook his head. “Biology and lit in the afternoon,” he replied.

“Cool, so you can join me,” Raleigh said, throwing Chuck another broad smile.

“I’m not sure I --” Chuck started.

“What, you just said you got nothing else to do,” Raleigh said, lifting his bag over his shoulder. “Come along,” he said, his tone a bit more firm this time, with a slight nod towards the door.

Chuck was at a loss. Finally, he shrugged, grabbed his own bag, and followed Raleigh into the hallway.

 

\---

 

When they walked onto the practice field and everyone stared at him, Chuck responded with a fierce glare. Anyone was going to say anything, he’d punch their lights out.

From the corner of his eye Raleigh observed Chuck’s hostile attitude.

Coach Gage approached them. “Becket, you’re late,” he said.

“Brought you a forward,” Raleigh answered, grabbing Chuck’s wrist and tugging him towards the coach.

“What!?” Chuck exclaimed.

Gage raised his eyebrow, and glanced at Raleigh, at Chuck, and back to Raleigh. Who was smirking like he was a genius. Gage sighed. The boy was a hopeless optimist, but it was going to take a bit more than that.

The coach shrugged, and looked at Chuck again. “You’re welcome to join our warm-up run,” he said. “Maybe you got what it takes.” Chuck heard some of the players sigh and mutter in protest.

This was too much. Everyone was looking at him, Raleigh was smiling, the players were looking annoyed. Chuck recognized one of the backs - the fullback, he figured. It was Dan. This was all wrong. Chuck gritted his teeth and shook his wrist loose from Raleigh’s grip. “Screw you,” he snapped. “I don’t want to play on your loser team.” He stepped back, glared at Raleigh. “Screw you all,” he repeated, and stormed off.

“Shit,” Raleigh said.

“Nice try, kid,” Gage remarked. “But you shouldn’t waste your energy on him.”

Raleigh folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “I’m not done,” he said. “I’ll get him on the team.”

Behind him, he heard his teammates mutter, and Raleigh turned around. “Y’all got something to say, say it,” he said.

The player Chuck had recognised as Dan stepped forward. “We don’t want Hansen on the team, Becket,” he said.

The rest of the team nodded. Other players chimed in. “He wanted in, he shoulda been at the tryouts.” “Hansen’s not a team player.” “You’re a good hooker, Becket, but don’t go beyond the team’s back, yeah?” “Especially not for that guy.” “Best steer clear of him.”

Raleigh sighed. The odds of getting Chuck on the team were rapidly dropping. He’d have to find another way.


	7. Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck is an idiot and breaks his thumb. Raleigh helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive warnings: none

Chuck walked down the hallway straight to the gym, fuming, and students ducked aside as soon as they saw him approach. His frown was even fiercer than usual, his eyebrows low enough that his eyes were barely visible, only a shimmer of the pupils underneath, shooting a frightening glare at anyone who dared to make eye contact.

He strapped the gloves to his hand, raised his arms and slammed hard into the punching bag with a right hook. Then his left, and then the right again, over and over, until his hands hurt, until he couldn’t feel his arm anymore. With one final scream, he threw all the strength and anger he had into another punch.

He heard the sickening crack of bone breaking, followed by a hellish pain tearing from his hand all the way up to his shoulder.

He fell to his knees, clutching his arm, screaming a very creative array of expletives.

 

\---

 

“You’re an idiot,” Raleigh said. 

Chuck was sitting in the medical ward, his hand in a splint. “Shut up,” he bit at Raleigh.

“You broke your thumb hitting a punching bag,” Raleigh said, entirely unimpressed.

“No shit,” Chuck grumbled.

“You’ll be in plaster for weeks,” Raleigh continued.

“Do you have a point or are you just here to mock me?” Chuck said, glaring at Raleigh.

“Since you are an absolute moron who broke his thumb on a punching bag whilst wearing boxing gloves, and I am the best roommate ever, I’m going to have to take care of you,” Raleigh said.

Chuck sighed. “You’re kidding,” he muttered.

“Nope,” Raleigh said, grinning.

 

\---

 

Chuck hadn’t quite anticipated what a pain in the ass having a broken thumb would be. Making his bed, taking a shower, putting on his clothes, it all took forever. Not to mention trying to swat away Raleigh with one hand was a lot harder, too. It seemed like Raleigh felt guilty for upsetting him in the first place, and now followed him around like a loyal puppy, carrying his bags, flipping his book pages. Chuck flushed when he thought about the first night when Raleigh was about to help him out in the bathroom too, but he’d managed to slam and lock the door just in time, shouting at his roommate that he could manage fine by himself. The guy was a total bother, he thought.

But, somewhere, even though he’d never admit it to anyone, barely even to himself, it felt nice to have someone around all the time. Someone who was friendly and didn’t threaten him or looked scared, someone who actually listened to him. It made his chest hurt and Chuck didn’t know if he was okay with that, but he wasn’t okay anyway.

That evening, he found Raleigh squatted on the floor, surrounded by stacks of paper with familiar sketches. Chuck froze in the doorframe.

“Hey,” Raleigh said, looking up. “Are these yours?”

Chuck braced himself, clenching his one working fist, feeling an old darkness creep up in the back of his mind. “Put them away,” he hissed.

Raleigh had been around Chuck long enough by now to know when he was on edge. “It’s okay,” Raleigh said. “These are amazing.” He picked up a sketch, showing a monster with a head like a scythe, curving from the top of its skull all the way down to its chin. “What’s this one called?”

Chuck remained frozen in place, not sure how to react. The last time anyone looked at his sketches, he’d gotten beaten up badly, and shortly after that he’d stopped drawing, putting his drawings and notebook in a box under his bed, never looking at them again.

“How did you find those,” he finally managed to say, his voice strained and shaking.

Raleigh looked up at Chuck, worried. “I was cleaning up,” he said. “I knocked some stuff over. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go through your personal stuff. But they’re really cool looking, you know? I didn’t know you could draw.”

Chuck walked up to Raleigh in a few large steps and scrambled to pick up his drawings off the floor, attempting to push Raleigh aside, but with one hand it was proving difficult. 

“Calm down,” Raleigh said. “Chuck, it’s okay. It’s me.” He reached out, touched Chuck’s arm.

“Don’t touch me!” Chuck snarled, trying to shake Raleigh off, falling to one knee. “Leave me alone,” he hissed.

Raleigh’s brow furrowed with a worried expression, but he wasn’t about to let Chuck scare him off, so he stared him right down, meeting Chuck’s glare with an open, unafraid look.

“What did they do to you, Chuck?” Raleigh ventured. He’d picked up enough gossip from his team to be able to guess what Chuck went through the past few years. His voice was soft and compassionate. And just like that, something broke in Chuck.

He sagged down on the floor, turning his face away from Raleigh. He didn’t know what to do or what to say anymore. Raleigh was always there, not backing down, not intimidated, not hurting him. Chuck didn’t know how to deal with someone like that at all. Raleigh was there for him and he’d never learned how to trust anyone; he simply didn’t know how to go about it.

When Raleigh reached out again, Chuck didn’t shake him off, and when Raleigh’s hand touched his face and stroked his hair out of his eyes, he didn’t flinch. When Raleigh’s arms wrapped around him, he didn’t push him away.

“I’m sorry,” Raleigh said after a while.

Chuck didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure what Raleigh was apologizing for. But it made him feel less tangled up, somehow.

Raleigh let Chuck go, and sat back. 

“Me and my brother Yancy came all the way here from Alaska,” Raleigh said. “A few years ago, our mom died of cancer.”

“Oh,” Chuck said. He wasn’t sure how to reply to these sort of things. Or how to carry a conversation at all, really.

“… After that, our father left us,” Raleigh continued. “And our sister, Jazmine, got sick too. She’s still in Alaska, in a… place that takes care of her.” 

That was a lot to deal with, Chuck thought. He wasn’t sure why Raleigh was telling him all this.

Raleigh collected the sketches on the floor, put them into a neat stack and placed them in front of Chuck. Then he rose to his feet. 

“We all got scars, Chuck,” Raleigh said. “You can’t keep pushing people away forever.”


	8. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck likes to go and watch Raleigh practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive warnings: none

Chuck’s hand was almost healed, and he was sulking a bit - or perhaps just as much as he used to sulk. He saw less of Raleigh these days as his roommate was busy with rugby practice. The school team was gearing up for the city tournament. After Raleigh had constantly been around him for weeks, Chuck missed the companionship. When he’d been alone all the time before, he’d gotten used to it. Missing someone was a new thing, and he didn’t like it.

They’d frequently eaten lunch together in the cafeteria, too. At first, Chuck glared at practically every student in the hall, daring them to say anything about his presence or about him hanging out with Raleigh. But Raleigh was popular and people frequently said hi or approached their table to talk to him. By extension, people got more comfortable near Chuck, and Chuck got more comfortable near people. He’d gradually relaxed, paying more attention to the conversation than how people might be looking at him, and to his surprise, nothing bad happened. He didn’t hear any laughter behind his back, nobody threw food at him, and he didn’t have to punch anyone.

When Raleigh began to miss their lunch dates because he was busy hanging out with the team, Chuck got frustrated, and after a while he got the idea to attend their practice just to see Raleigh. At first he’d snuck around, embarrassed about being seen after he’d told them off. But the desire to see Raleigh play won out on his fear.

Raleigh wasn’t just a good player. He was one of the best. All right, maybe Chuck was slightly biased. But Raleigh moved around the field with both grace and strength, tackling opponents, catching the ball, passing it, manipulating the flow of the game through his speed and tactical intuition.

Raleigh had become aware of Chuck coming to watch practice from the spectator benches. He was glad Chuck was getting out of the room to be near people, and he hoped to eventually change his mind about the team. It would still be difficult to change the team’s mind about Chuck, however.

One afternoon, Chuck was watching practice again, all wound up in Raleigh’s play. As far as Chuck was concerned, the team consisted of Raleigh, the gorgeous graceful golden-haired demi-god, and a bunch of blurry shapes with limbs. The only time he paid attention to the other players was when they got their hands on Raleigh - which was more frequent than he’d like it to be - and then he found himself annoyed, glaring at the offending players.

So when a blonde guy ran into the field, grabbed Raleigh by the back of the neck, cupped his face, kissed him full on the cheek - or even his lips, Chuck couldn’t quite tell from that distance - and hugged him tight, Chuck practically jumped off his seat with eyes ablaze. Who the hell was this guy, and why was he getting all touchy-feely with Raleigh? Chuck was fuming, and he stormed off, cursing and clenching his fists.

About an hour later, Raleigh walked into their room. He found Chuck there, sulking, his head buried in a history study book that he wasn’t really studying.

“Where’d you go?” Raleigh asked. “I wanted to introduce you.”

Chuck lowered his book slightly to glare at Raleigh, and then pushed it back up to cover his face.

Raleigh walked up to Chuck, yanked the book out of his hands and tossed it on the bed.

Chuck’s face was all flushed and angry and he jumped off the bed, creating more distance between him and Raleigh.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Raleigh said, getting frustrated as well.

“Heh, introduce me?” Chuck sneered. “To your boyfriend?”

His face flushed into a tone ten times redder as soon as he’d said it, because he’d just made it glaringly obvious how he felt.

Raleigh burst into laughter. Chuck simply stood there, not feeling better about the situation now that he was being laughed at.

“You idiot,” Raleigh said, still laughing. “That wasn’t my boyfriend. That was Yancy. My brother.”

Raleigh walked up to Chuck, backing him into a wall, and grinned. “Were you jealous?” Raleigh said.

Chuck turned another five shades of red darker. “Don’t be stupid,” Chuck said, avoiding Raleigh’s gaze. “Why would I be jealous.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Raleigh said, moving his face closer to Chuck’s, leaning against the wall with one hand. His lips curved upwards in a tempting smile, and his eyes had a curious twinkle. 

“Because you like me.” 

And before Chuck could argue, Raleigh leaned in further and pressed his lips against Chuck’s.


	9. Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck's life is slowly but surely getting better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive warnings: none
> 
> Dealing with emotional trauma in a responsible way? In fanfiction? It's more likely than you think.

For about one second, a warmth spread through Chuck’s chest as Raleigh’s mouth pressed against his own. But the warmth turned into something tight, twisting in his gut, and he started to feel sick.

“No!” Chuck shouted, and pushed Raleigh away, knocking him against the bed frame. Chuck looked disgusted, and wiped his mouth. Memories were washing over him, dark and nauseating.

“Chuck…?” Raleigh started, but was met with a wild glare. Chuck’s pupils were so large his irises were almost completely black, and his skin had gone from flushed to very pale.

Chuck wasn’t seeing Raleigh anymore. 

_You’re gonna be a man, Chuckie. You’ll thank me later._

“I ain’t a poofter! Get away from me!” Chuck yelled. He shoved Raleigh aside, and leapt towards the door.

Chuck ran through the hallways in a haze. He didn’t know where he was going, he was knocking into people left and right. He felt sick to his stomach and dizzy and his heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. When he started to feel like he was going to black out he stopped running and fell to his knees. The ringing in his ears became louder and louder.

When Chuck became more aware of his surroundings again, he was at the doctor’s office. He vaguely recalled Raleigh and his brother Yancy taking him there.

“You had a panic attack,” the doctor said. “Do you think you could say what triggered it?”

Chuck shook his head. He wasn’t going to say a word about it. He remembered it all. He remembered his fist hitting Scott’s face, over and over, until it was nothing but blood.

Raleigh and Yancy were still in the room. “I’m sorry,” he heard Raleigh say. “I think it was me who upset him. Is he going to be all right?”

“I’ve given him a dose of oxazepam,” the doctor said. “It’ll calm him down. But…” 

She took a form out of one of her desk drawers, filled it out, put her signature at the bottom and handed the form to Chuck. “This is a referral letter to Dr. Maximilian,” she said.

Chuck looked at the form. “Therapy?” he said.

The doctor nodded. “Yes, Chuck. You’ve been through a lot, and I think you need to talk to someone about it.”

Chuck was about to protest, saying he wasn’t that weak, that he didn’t need some stranger getting all up in his business messing with his mind.

But he looked at Raleigh, who was nodding at him. He remembered the softness of Raleigh’s lips on his, right before he freaked out.

He wanted to feel those lips on his again, without freaking out, next time.

 

\---

 

For a long while after that, Raleigh didn’t try to kiss him again. Rationally, Chuck knew Raleigh was doing the right thing, giving him the space he needed. But emotionally, not so much. 

He started going to therapy, once a week, then every few weeks. He hadn’t thought it would help, but it did. Once he started talking, he couldn’t really stop. The psychologist - whom he started calling Max - was an actual nice guy, who listened to him without judgment.

After Raleigh had properly introduced him to Yancy, they started hanging out more often. Chuck had finally gotten the full picture about why they were even at the school, too. Back in Anchorage they’d started out as American football players in junior high, but found that the sport didn’t interest them as much as rugby did. Without parents and trying to find a place where they could train and get an education at the same time, they ended up looking at boarding schools in Australia. The fancy ones like King’s School were too expensive, so they settled for the smaller one Chuck was attending, Pacific College.

On his seventeenth birthday, his dad had dropped by again. Things had gone a little better than the year before, though he still found it difficult to talk to him. Chuck had told him about how he was seeing a therapist, about how things hadn’t gone well for a long time, and how he’d finally made some friends. He could tell his dad felt guilty about a lot of what he’d gone through, and in some way, Chuck thought he should feel guilty. He still blamed his father for letting him down, and he wasn’t sure he could ever let that go. There was still a breach between them, and Chuck wasn’t eager on closing it. It was still hard being around his dad. Things started to hurt too much.

And a few weeks later, rugby tryouts came around again.The more Chuck’d watched Raleigh and Yancy play, the more he ached to play himself, but the team was still very hostile. Chuck couldn’t blame them. So all year he’d been working out, watching their practice games and studying rugby until he was sure he couldn’t get any better without actual practice. He was about as ready as he was ever going to be.

The tryouts were a breeze. He amazed everyone including himself with his speed, strength and feel for the game, tossing the ball and tackling opponents like he was born to do it. Even the other guys in the team who weren’t exactly his biggest fans grudgingly let him join, unable to deny Chuck’s obvious skill in the game.

On some days Chuck found himself thinking back to how bad things were before he’d met Raleigh, and how much better things were now, and it made him smile.

The first time Raleigh saw that smile he actually had to catch his breath. He had no idea Chuck even had dimples, but there they were, surrounding a broad smile, a set of beautiful white teeth, sharp corners of his mouth curving upwards, bringing light to his face and eyes. Before then, Raleigh wasn’t sure how much he returned Chuck’s feelings. But the first time he saw Chuck smile, he knew he had to make it happen again, and again, so that everyone could see them, so that those dimples were gonna stay stuck on Chuck’s face forever.


	10. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raleigh wakes up with a typical morning condition. So does Chuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive warnings: ... none? (I'm not sure if this qualifies as Underage. I guess I'm not comfortable with the label but they are not quite 18 yet? Argh morals etc)
> 
> Have a ridiculous amount of fluff <3

The thing about being roommates, being infatuated and being young guys fresh out of puberty was that no matter how much you wanted to hide how you felt, your body didn’t quite follow the plan.

Raleigh woke up groaning, the throbbing sensation between his legs telling him what - or rather, who - he’d been dreaming about this early in the morning. He sighed, sat up and pushed back the covers, his hard-on prominent in his light grey boxers. He was about to get up to take care of it in the bathroom, when he heard movement from Chuck’s side of the room. When he looked up, his eyes caught Chuck’s, staring at him. Chuck’s gaze drifted, down to Raleigh’s crotch, and back up.

Raleigh wasn’t sure how to react. He was still drowsy, but he had enough clarity of mind to realize waving his erection in Chuck’s face was probably not a good idea.

Then, Chuck sat up as well, maintaining eye contact with Raleigh, and pulled away the covers on his own bed. Raleigh sucked in his breath sharply when he saw Chuck was hard as well.

This was real confusing, Raleigh thought. Last time he’d tried anything with Chuck the guy had called him a poofter and had a panic attack. It was the sort of response that definitely discouraged you from trying anything again, not that it was as much a rejection as Raleigh was worried about Chuck, and didn’t want to push him. So, even now, he left the initiative up to Chuck, and waited to see what his roommate would do.

When Chuck stood up from the bed and began to walk towards him, Raleigh could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He wondered if maybe he was still dreaming, because that wasn’t unusual, dreaming how you woke up only to find out you hadn’t. And this situation seemed like the sort of thing he’d dream about, Chuck hard and approaching him with this look in his eyes, Raleigh wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Chuck gaze at him that way, eyes darkened but cheeks dimpled in a crooked smile.

Yeah, I must be dreaming, Raleigh thought, even though it feels totally real.

Chuck was close enough now that Raleigh could feel Chuck’s body heat near his own and hear Chuck’s breathing, fast and nervous. Chuck’s hand cupped his face, and Chuck leaned down, pressing his lips against Raleigh’s.

Raleigh knew he wasn’t dreaming.

 

\---

 

Chuck kept his mouth on Raleigh’s, not sure what to do next. It’s not like he had any prior experience with this sort of thing, and any education on the topic of relationships or dating hadn’t made its way into the boarding school’s curriculum. Though it was now secular, it was still all-boys’ school, and sex-ed classes had mostly focused on biology and how to not get girls pregnant. 

Lucky for Chuck, Raleigh had a bit more knowledge on the subject, and more experience in dating.

Raleigh parted his lips slightly, darting out his tongue, stroking it softly over Chuck’s lower lip, then waited. Chuck reacted by doing the exact same thing, and Raleigh smiled against his lips. Chuck withdrew, unsure if it was a good smile or a bad smile.

Raleigh lightly touched Chuck’s hand, which still rested on his jaw. “It’s okay, Chuck,” he said, keeping his voice soft and calm. “That was nice.”

Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to Raleigh that Chuck had no experience whatsoever. He felt a flushed, tight feeling rise up in his chest, a mix of worry and compassion and aching and desire, a need to take care of Chuck as well as he could, to show him how good things could be, to give him all that he’d been missing out on. He wanted to tell Chuck all of it, but couldn’t find the words.

He took Chuck’s hand into his own, and intertwined their fingers, giving him a soft squeeze.

Raleigh was also having trouble ignoring his aching hard-on, but he was more aware than ever that he shouldn’t rush Chuck. He had an idea, but wasn’t sure if Chuck would go for it.

“Hey, uh, listen,” Raleigh started. “How about… I take care of mine and you take care of yours, and then we continue?”

Confusion worked its way into Chuck’s face, and stayed there. “Continue what?” Chuck eventually said.

“Kissing,” Raleigh offered. He found he was blushing ridiculously, despite having already kissed a bunch of times with different people in the past. This was different, he thought. This was Chuck.

He could see Chuck struggling to work it out, so Raleigh patiently waited.

“... Take care of mine how?” Chuck asked.

When it dawned on Raleigh what Chuck meant he tilted his head in disbelief, furrowing his brow. He knew what Chuck had gone through; after he’d started talking about it in therapy, he’d eventually started talking to Raleigh about it, too. The school sure as hell wouldn’t teach all the young boys how to jack off, and Chuck’s first experience with anything sexual was tangled up in fear and trauma, so he probably stayed away from it after that.

Raleigh’s assumptions were right. It’s not that Chuck didn’t know what Raleigh was talking about, but he didn’t know how to go about any of it. When he’d gotten morning wood he just waited until it went away. But it happened every day now, being around Raleigh so much, and he had this constant yearning in his body he didn’t know how to handle. All he knew is that Raleigh could help.

Raleigh was unsure how to proceed. He could show Chuck, but maybe that would be a step too far, if Chuck didn’t even know much about kissing.

“I… could show you,” Raleigh said, careful to not sound pushy.

Curiosity, then apprehension, crossed Chuck’s face in rapid succession. He stammered something and looked uncomfortable. 

That wasn’t going to work, Raleigh realized. He’d have to come up with another way. “Okay, um, how about I tell you how I do it, but you don’t look? And I won’t look at you,” Raleigh suggested.

That seemed less scary, Chuck figured. “Okay, that sounds… okay,” he said. 

Raleigh nodded. “Alright,” he said with a smile. “And tell me if it’s not okay anymore,” he added.

“Can we kiss again first?” Chuck blurted out, blushing immediately.

Raleigh smiled. For all his lack of experience, Chuck was incredibly cute right now, and blithely unaware of how attractive he was, looking at Raleigh all flushed and lips parted.

Raleigh patted the bed. “Come sit,” he said, and Chuck obeyed.

Chuck was so nervous he was shivering a little, feeling like he was on the edge of something big that was equally exciting and scary.

Slowly, observing Chuck’s responses, Raleigh put his arm around Chuck’s shoulders, pulling him closer. He softly ran his hand into Chuck’s hair, tilting his head to the side. Then, he kissed Chuck again.

This time, Raleigh didn’t simply touch his lips to Chuck’s, but nipped at them, parting his lips and then pressing them together again. His tongue softly struck across Chuck’s upper and lower lip, and Chuck began to mimic Raleigh’s movements. Raleigh opened his mouth further, and when Chuck did the same, he pushed their heads closer together and slid his tongue in between Chuck’s lips.

The sensation was strange, new, and it spread a heat throughout Chuck’s body and he arched into it, parting his lips further, and when Raleigh’s tongue brushed over his own he moaned softly. He felt the urge to have Raleigh closer, to taste more; he snuck his arm behind Raleigh’s back, pulling him in.

Then Chuck began to mimic Raleigh again, and moved his own tongue against Raleigh’s, feeling and tasting with curiosity and a kind of hunger he wasn’t sure how to describe. He felt Raleigh run a hand through his hair, and goosebumps shot down his spine in response.

Finally, Raleigh broke the kiss, and gazed at Chuck, who looked even more flushed and attractive now.

“Wow,” Chuck managed to say.

“Yeah,” Raleigh said. “That… was your first real kiss, wasn’t it?”

Chuck nodded, looking away in embarrassment. He was almost 18, and felt kind of ridiculous for his inexperience.

Raleigh placed his hand on Chuck’s chin, turning his head back to face him. “Here’s your second,” Raleigh said, and he kissed Chuck again, slow and deep; and again, counting every kiss, until they lost count.


	11. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck needs a bit of help with something, and Raleigh sucks at explaining it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archive warnings: none
> 
> A few notes:  
> \- It's the last chapter! ... Of the first volume. Yes, there is going to be more! It's just that 11+ chapters in one fic gets a bit unwieldy.  
> \- I'm not sure whether this is silly or adorable or hot. Feel free to let me know *g*

Making out with Raleigh was making Chuck dizzy, in a good way, and he ached for more. His hands wandered over Raleigh’s body, and Raleigh let him do so without reciprocating, not sure if Chuck was comfortable with him touching and feeling back. So when Chuck grabbed Raleigh’s hand and pulled it towards his crotch, Raleigh was more than a little surprised.

“Er, Chuck…” Raleigh began. “I’m not sure if we should --”

“I want you to,” Chuck interrupted.

“I know,” Raleigh said. “But I want you to do it yourself first.”

“Uh… okay,” Chuck said, feeling embarrassed again.

“Unless you’re not okay with that,” Raleigh said. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Chuck shook his head. “I’m okay with it. Plus… it’s kind of starting to hurt, yeah?” he said.

“No kidding,” Raleigh said, laughing. “Come on, you sit on your bed, I’ll sit on mine.”

Raleigh sat back on his bed, his back against the pillows and his feet towards the end. Chuck sat on the edge of his, his back towards Raleigh.

“So, um, are you ready?” Raleigh said. He was way beyond ready himself, and he hoped he had enough sense left to talk Chuck through it.

“... Yeah,” came the reply.

“Ok, I’m just going to start talking,” Raleigh said. “Close your eyes, don’t think too much.”

“So, first, I take it out of my boxers,” Raleigh began, narrating his own actions, taking it as slowly as he could. “If I… rub it like this it’s too dry, so I make my hand wet, with some spit,” he continued. “Or lotion or lube, if it’s nearby,” he added. Not that they could even get a hold of proper lubricant in school without being asked a few questions at the principal’s office, Raleigh thought, but kept that to himself.

“And then I, uh, wrap my hand around it,” Raleigh continued, “The tip is the most sensitive, so…” He gasped, and heard Chuck sighing across the room.

“... So I stroke up and down, in a steady rhythm, first slow, then faster…” 

Raleigh began to have a bit of trouble focusing. He’d had considerable practice at this, and wondered how Chuck was doing. 

“I slide my thumb over the tip, and then it gets a bit too much, so I pump lower, and then build up, and…” 

Raleigh wondered if it even made sense anymore. He was really aching to get off, and it was clouding his mind. 

“And I go faster,” Raleigh continued, his voice becoming ragged, “Around the tip, right there… oh, fuck…” he groaned, hips bucking up into his own hand, and stopped thinking of Chuck as his own need overwhelmed him.

By the sounds Raleigh was making, Chuck could tell he was almost there, whatever _there_ meant, but it sounded like somewhere he wanted to be. Behind him, Raleigh let out a loud groan, followed by a whispered ‘fuck’ and Chuck heard him fall back onto the bed with a soft thud. Meanwhile, Chuck wasn’t sure if what he was doing was the same, and he figured that maybe he was just too nervous, or maybe too dumb. It felt good to hold it and to stroke himself, but he wasn’t sure what Raleigh was saying about building up and then he’d stopped making sense entirely.

When Raleigh gathered his senses again, he picked up on things being rather quiet on Chuck’s side.

“... Chuck? Everything alright?” he asked. He got no answer, so he looked up, and still saw Chuck with his back turned.

“I’m… not sure it’s working,” Chuck finally said.

Raleigh sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I tried to focus, but…”

“It’s okay,” Chuck said.

Things were getting really awkward really fast, and Raleigh wasn’t the sort of guy who put up with that. He got off his own bed, wiped his hand on his boxers and sat down on the other edge of Chuck’s bed.

“I could help,” Raleigh said. “If that’s what you want, if --”

“Could you, yeah?” Chuck said, interrupting Raleigh. He leaned back a bit, turned his head and looked at him. Raleigh smiled, leaning forward, and kissed Chuck.

Raleigh swiftly positioned himself behind Chuck, wrapping his legs and arms around him. 

“How’s this?” Raleigh said.

Warmth spread from everywhere Raleigh’s skin was touching his, and Chuck was thinking that they’d never been this close before, and he leaned back, resting his head on Raleigh’s shoulder.

“Feels nice,” Chuck replied.

“Good,” Raleigh said, and trailed kisses along Chuck’s neck and shoulder. This was on a way different level, he thought, yet it felt totally natural, not awkward at all. Raleigh smiled, and slowly moved his hands from Chuck’s chest down over his abdomen, feeling how tense he was, breathing heavily; noticing the toned muscles underneath. Raleigh wondered if he should make it an educational endeavour but with the way Chuck was breathing heavily and leaning against him, he realized that his roommate needed the release more than anything.

Raleigh’s hand wrapped around Chuck’s length, and without Raleigh even doing anything else, Chuck moaned and gasped. 

“Whoa,” Chuck said. “It feels way different when you do it.”

Raleigh laughed. “Yeah, it’s better when someone you like does it to you,” he said.

Slowly, Raleigh began to stroke Chuck, and Chuck responded intensely, panting and moaning and bucking his hips up into Raleigh’s hand.

This felt amazing, Chuck thought, and with Raleigh wrapped around him, arms and legs, kissing his neck and stroking him, he felt safe, possibly safer than he’d ever felt, like he could just... let go.

Raleigh felt the release building up in Chuck’s body as he gradually surrendered to the sensations, burrowing his head into the nook of Raleigh’s shoulder and neck, arching his back, grinding towards Raleigh’s touch.

Raleigh smiled as he felt Chuck shudder and spill over his hand, and continued to hold him as Chuck slowly recovered.

Chuck’s mind was a near-total blank, and he lazily turned around, with a big dimpled grin on his face. Raleigh laughed, and kissed him.

They sat like that for a while, until Chuck sat up a little.

“Hey, so, uh…” Chuck said. “Do you… want to go out with me?”

Raleigh laughed. It was unbelievably adorable of Chuck to ask, especially after they’d already spent considerable time making out and getting each other off.

He pulled Chuck in for another kiss.

“Yeah, I do,” Raleigh said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Volume 2 of Redeem My Life Again coming soon! (Pun entirely intended)


End file.
